Of Pixie Nature

Bright blinding sapphire blue. The phrase sprang to her mind when he opened his eyes. She had been hovering over him, wings buzzing incessantly, waiting for him to do so for quite some time. She bit into her bottom lip with her pointy teeth as he fully came into consciousness. "Baby," he said, branding her as a child would proclaim "cow!" or "dog!". He smiled lazily and pulled her onto his chest.

Light was falling in streaks across his blue painted room, making her feel like she was underwater. His eyes were the same shade as the clearest of seas. She cocked her head sideways and continued to look into them as he ran his hands through the mass of curls that was her hair.

"You're so beautiful," he said, "you're so beautiful."

She was beautiful, but she was different. She was a tiny pixie with a hummingbird heartbeat confined to her room. The world was scary and she was just so small. Anything could happen. People had taken advantage of her naive, pixie nature before, and scarred her careful heart.

As he started up his shower, she bundled herself up in one of his hoodies and made her way to the kitchen. She was not a pixie of the Tinkerbell variety. All of her features presented her on the surface as a real, human girl, albeit tinier than most, with sharp little fangs and large marble eyes. Her wings were easily hidden. They were not for flying, being far too small and tissue paper thin. She was never quite sure of their function, other than they buzzed noiselessly when she was excited or extremely happy.

She hoisted herself up onto the kitchen counter and sat Indian-style, pulling a fat pink ceramic cookie jar into her lap. She munched quietly as he entered, water droplets soaking into his maroon t-shirt where the frayed ends of his hair met his collar. He kissed her forehead as he pulled a box of cornflakes down from the shelf behind her. After finding a bowl and spoon and pouring in some milk, he settled his back against the edge of the counter.

"Kansas?" he ventured, bringing his first spoonful of flakes to his mouth.

"Topeka," she returned, eyes widening at the challenge, "Washington?"

"Olympia. Arizona?"

"Phoenix. Tennessee?"

"Memphis-"

"Nashville!" she trilled in correction, replacing the lid of the cookie jar. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his nose scrunched in accepted defeat. He turned and put his now empty bowl in the sink, along with his spoon, and placed his hands on either side of her on the counter. "My smart baby. What do you want to do today?"